


Jazzy the Vampire Slayer

by thewakeless



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Lesbians, Plot, Queer Themes, Romeo and Juliette, School Play, Shakespear, Slow Burn, jazzy and fiona, season 1 buffy, wlw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22256164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewakeless/pseuds/thewakeless
Summary: Jazzy Howell is the latest in a long line of women chosen to be the slayer, a defender against vampires, demons and the forces of darkness. But she's also a High School student, who wants to do normal things: wear cute clothes, star in her school play, and make her new best friend fall in love with her.  Too bad it's the end of the world, and it's Jazzy responsibility to save it.
Relationships: Angel/Darla (BtVS), Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 12
Kudos: 10
Collections: phandomficfests: Bingo 2019





	1. Welcome to the Hellmouth

**Author's Note:**

> I needed a new project to get 2020 started and this was the best thing I could think of. I'll follow the basic plot of Buffy Season 1 but with dan and phil, oh and they're girls. And I'm going to try to make as much sense as possible, but in the end I'm writing this for myself so it might be a bit hard to follow for people who aren't familiar with both fandoms.

Located due South of the Scottish border, Solshire was a small town with a population of 10,000. It had a beautifully preserved Medieval Church, award-winning roses in the spring, and a Christmas market in December. However, it also had a hellmouth, a central point of supernatural activity that regularly brought disaster and bloodshed to the unsuspecting residents. 

The hellmouth was rather conveniently located in the underground tunnels beneath the local High School: Solshire High. There it fed on exam anxiety, romantic disappointment, and a constant stream of bratty feuds. In exchange, it gave the school a distinct air of power that was intoxicating for its young inhabitants and generated cliques, mean girls, and lusty social ambition in bulbous proportions. 

Of that Fiona, Lester was painfully aware. She had lived the first 14 years of her life in a regular fashion: riding her bicycle, reading graphic novels, and breeding her beloved hamsters. She had done well in school and had been part of a small, but close friend group, consisting of Cordelia, Harmony, and Aurora, the best friends a girl could ask for. But all of this had come crashing down fast as soon as they started Solshire High. 

From the first day, Fiona had sensed the evil of the place, felt it snake around her and her friends. It started with mocking comments, eye-rolling, the group dismissing her every opinion, but it quickly grew. She watched bewildered, as all her friends turned against her, and within the first five weeks, she had been branded a social outcast and consequently abandoned. They made her the butt of every joke, mocked her taste in music, belittled her favorite movies, jeered at the way she dressed, and at her long ginger hair. Soon after the nicknames started: grandma, for her conservative clothes and loser because she had no friends, but the worst one, the worst one by far was the one that finally stuck: lesbian. 

She would never forget the way Cordelia had slammed her against a locker and said loud enough for everyone in the hallway to hear, "I'm sick of the way you look at me! Don't you think I know why you're always so nice to me?" She scoffed and made eye contact with her audience. "Please. Everyone knows you're in love with me you little freak and I'm not putting up with it anymore. I don't need a gross, little lesbian following my every move."

Whatever had happened after that was a mystery to Fiona. Maybe she had fled. Maybe she had cried. Maybe she had fallen to the floor and everybody had just laughed at her. That day it had seemed like her entire existence had been carelessly vanquished. And humiliated and betrayed, a new phase of her life had started. She dyed her hair black, she dressed like an emo, listened to Muse, and talked to absolutely no one, except for Giles of course, the friendly school librarian, but as far as she was concerned he didn't really count. He was a grown-up, a dad type, with his lame ties and oversized glasses. But he was nice to her, even letting her break school rules and have lunch in the library with him. 

For two long years that had been the entirety of Fiona's life. Black clothes, black hair, Muse and social exile. She continued to think of Solshire High as evil and her former friends' quick change of attitude towards her unnatural, but Fiona preferred not to dwell. There were good things happening too. For one, she was now tall enough that no one would ever think to knock her against a locker again. For another, she had scored an after-school job at a little coffee shop and, if that weren't enough to lift her spirits, her parents had finally allowed her to get a septum piercing. So, in her own limited way, Fiona was thriving.

"Morning Giles," she said on her first day of Junior year as she walked through the doors of the library. 

She had expected to find him cradling a coffee cup and in the middle of some medieval volume or other, but instead, he was standing in the center of the room having a hushed conversation with a girl Fiona had never seen before. They both turned quickly to her, accusingly like she was interrupting them. 

"Oh," Fiona pulled her bag closer to her. "Sorry, I thought you were alone."

"I was just leaving," said the girl. "I'll see about that book later," she told Giles, but her tone rang with falseness. She walked quickly passed Fiona to the door and Fiona's eyes involuntarily followed her every move. 

"Who was _that_?"

"New student," said Giles casually putting his hand in the pockets of his khakis. 

"Junior?"

"Yes, like you."

"From London?"

"I believe so."

Fiona frowned. People from London didn't just pick up and move to one of the most northern towns in England. Especially not people who looked like her. 

"What's her name?"

"What's with the interrogation?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Aren't you supposed to be nurturing the curiosity of the young?"

"Quite so, but Fiona-" he stopped himself. "The new girl, it's best if you leave her alone. She's got a lot of catching up to do."

Fiona narrowed her eyes. Who was Giles to tell her what to do anyway?\

-

Jazzy Howell was big fucking news. A tall, beautiful girl from the capital, with luscious brown curls and teeny tiny miniskirts. She oozed the easy, self-satisfied confidence of a Queen B, which instantly made Cordelia's anxiety levels spike, and had gorgeous long legs that had every single boy (and Fiona) mesmerized. 

She seemed to float down the hallways, like an apparition, and throughout her whole first day, her presence disturbed everything. The name “Jazzy” was on everyone's lips. They wondered why she had come to Solshire and if that was really how people dressed in London. By lunchtime, Cordelia had even asked her to come sit at her table, which the new girl had done with seeming nonchalance. 

Normally, Fiona would have pretended not to care, even if she cared very deeply, but something about the new girl made her unable to do so. It wasn't just that she was pretty, Cordelia and Harmony were pretty, it was that her look was distinct. The brown curls. The dimples. The velvet choker. The platform boots. She wore all black, like Fiona, and when they had been together in the library, she could have sworn she sensed something between them – a kinship of sorts. 

It was this, as much as Giles telling her not to, that gave her the courage to speak to her during the last lesson of the day, English. Conveniently, Jazzy was sitting her next to her, looking down at the phone on her lap rather than at the text of Macbeth that the teacher had just handed out. Fiona tilted her chair closer to her. "This must be very different." It wasn't a very interesting start, but it was a start nonetheless.

Big brown eyes surveyed her. "To what?" In contrast to her appearance, her voice was soft.

"Wherever you come from."

"For sure."

"Have you been to the Church of Saint Sebastian yet?" The Church was the most beautiful thing the town had to offer and its only tourist attraction. 

"Nope, are you very religious?"

"No," said Fiona quickly. She didn't want to be _that_ girl. "But it's-" Beautiful? Cool? Neat? Suddenly every adjective she could think of was totally inadequate. This girl had lived in London! She had probably seen St. Paul's Cathedral and Westminster Abbey, of course, the local church wouldn't interest her. "A church," she finished, feeling a wild desire to melt into her seat.

To her surprise, Jazzy laughed. "The church is a church. Well, now I have to see it. What's your name?"

"Fiona Les-"

"-Bian," interrupted Harmony behind her. Fiona instantly turned red and stared fixedly at her notebook. "This is Lester Lesbian," she continued, putting cold hands on Fiona's shoulders, "and there's really only one reason she's talking to you."

Fiona’s body was having a breakdown. Her heart wasn't beating at all. Her internal organs had gotten tangled up together like a big ball of yarn. Every drop of blood in her body had whooshed up to her face till she was lollipop red. She had to remind herself to breathe, which was an odd thing to do because at that moment, Fiona could have sworn she didn't even have lungs. 

She spent the remainder of the class silently doodling on the margin of a page and as soon as the bell rang, she made a mad dash for the library. She burst through the door so violently Giles spilled his coffee. "Good heavens Fiona," he said as he tried to clean up the mess.

"You're jumpy," she retorted as she dropped her bag and pulled up a chair by his side. He had seen her run away from her peer's plenty of times in the past and had never before spilled anything because of it. 

"Long week."

"It's Monday."

"Well, the first day back feels twice as long, don't you find?"

Fiona narrowed her eyes. "You're being weird."

"No more so than usual," he said. "Want to read a passage of _Heimskringla_ ," he said pointing to his giant, leather-bound book, almost like he was changing the subject. If Fiona hadn't been willfully avoiding any thought about the new girl, she may have connected some dots.

-

The only thing worse than not having anyone texting you could only be getting spam texted by a fussy librarian, who was constantly reminding you of your duties, your powers and your tedious obligations to his dumbass order. It had been like that all day long. Text after text. The man could apparently preach endlessly and the only reply Jazzy had given was a simple "k."

Which, of course, had elicited a "Jazzy be serious. You alone have been chosen for this role. It is your destiny," yada yada yada.

It was her first day at a new school! She had to focus on looking cute and meeting nice people, not the whole 'save the world thing' that was not her problem. Not after what had happened last time anyway. Giles had to understand that. Like, he had told her this morning he was a watcher, his job was to help her. Absolutely under no circumstance was she allowing him to boss her around. 

With that thought she walked to the library, determined to tell him that he was not allowed to interfere in the normality of her life. Giles was reading out loud but stopped as she made her loud entrance. The accused lesbian from English class was sitting next to him. 

Jazzy smiled, this was working out better than she had expected.

"Jazzy." Giles stood up.

"I just came to tell you that I don't think I'll be checking out that book after all," she shrugged. "I just don't think it's for me."

Giles was going to say something but then looked down at Fiona. He went on very carefully. "I don't think that's-"

She brushed him off. "Sorry, gotta go, we got a ton of English homework, right Fiona?"

Fiona jumped at being addressed. "Mmm..."

"You're being very childish."

"Homework is my priority," Jazzy deadpanned. She reached across the desk and pulled Fiona up by the sleeve of her sweater. "We should go somewhere quiet and work."

"A library perhaps," said Giles drily.

"Or a church. Fiona loves churches," she said, looping an arm around the other's girl and walking her out of the room. 

Jazzy was too preoccupied with the triumph of having escaped Giles so easy to notice that Fiona was frozen next to her.

walked down the hallway, it felt like every pair of eyes was on them. But, she didn't even care because it felt so.... nice. Jazzy's boots made her just as tall as Fiona and her arm was so warm, and she smelled really, really good. She could imagine that they looked like some sort of goth, super duo. Her face was turning red. What the hell did this mean?

They didn't stop walking until they had crossed the entire school and had come out to a grey day. Then Jazz halted and Fiona awkwardly collided with her. 

"Which way is it?"

Fiona blinked. "St. Sebastian's?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, I mean, it's across town, but generally," she pointed westward, "that way?"

"Okay." Jazzy looped their arms together again and began walking, pulling Fiona along. 

"Where do you know Giles from?" she asked, her senses slowly coming back to there. There was something weird about that scene, and not just because someone other than her had stepped foot in the library. 

"My nightmares."

"Oh."

"You?"

Fiona hesitated. He wasn't just the school librarian, but he wasn't really a friend either. "I like his library," she finally answered, like the nerd she was.

"Libraries and churches, a girl of eclectic tastes," said Jazzy. They were walking very quickly and getting lots of stares. Fiona caught sight of Cordelia sitting in a car, arms crossed over her chest and a murderous look in her eyes. "Have you lived here all your life?"

"Yep."

Jazz made a little sound and then finally slowed down her talking to look at her. They were inches apart and Fiona's legs were literally shaking from nerves. "That is place is vile," she said gesturing towards the school.

Yes. That was what Fiona had always thought.

"Doesn't feel right."

It was like this girl could read her thoughts.

"Do you agree?"

"Yes."

Jazzy nodded knowingly, then started walking again.

Fiona wondered. Sure, she herself had no frame of reference, this was the only home she had ever known, but this girl had lived in London, she knew something of the world outside of Solshire and she sensed it too. 

It took almost an hour for them to get to the church and by then the sun was starting to set. They had crossed all the way through town. Occasionally, Jazzy would stop and stare at something, a broken window, a boarded up shop, then look at her for an explanation. "There was a robbery. Double suicide. We still don't know what happened to Mrs. Archer, but she's been missing more than a year." It wasn't until then that Fiona really thought about how many bad things happened in their tiny town. 

"It's at the end here, after the graveyard," she said as she opened a rusted-up gate.

This town had been around in one way or another for a thousand years. The graves in it were old. Fiona shivered as she passed through between them and subconsciously pressed her side closer to Jazzy. It was, really, a very pretty day. Cold and crisp, with a breeze that went beautifully through Jazzy's hair. The light was golden and their shadows long and lean, stretched out before them. 

"Something the matter?"

"No," said Fiona looking away from her, her face turning red. She disentangled their arms hurriedly and took a few steps closer to the church. 

"Do you like graveyards too?"

Fiona laughed. "Not really, do you?"

"No," said Jazzy firmly, casting the graves an evil eye. 

The graveyard was vast and the grass around it was allowed to grow tall and wild. It tickled the bare skin of Jazzy's legs as they zig-zagged through it to the side entrance of the church. The church was quite old but had been refurbished over the years. The old stone was blackened in places, cracked in others, with vines growing along the base and between the windows. It was not a big place, no Cathedral or Abbey, its construction was simple, but remarkably pretty, especially as it stood between the field and the sunset. 

They went in through the massive oak door on the side and Fiona felt a familiar awe as they entered. There was no artificial lighting, just candles and sparkling stained glass windows leaving patches of color on the floor and pews. It smelled of frankincense and old books, each pillar was carved, each statue familiar. Fiona felt Jazz moving closer to her in the semi-darkness. 

"There's no one here." It wasn't a question. Fiona came to the church regularly even if she had only been the service a handful of times in her life, but she had never seen it empty before. 

She and Jazz walked up the wing to the altar. It was dead quiet. Today had been most unexpected. Fiona was so used to her quiet life that anything outside of it shook her. And now she was in a Church with a beautiful girl she barely knew. How had she managed that? And what could she possibly do not to ruin it?

"I can see why you like it," said Jazz in a soft voice. Fiona could feel her heart beating, illogical thoughts coming one after the other, things she had worked her whole life to repress. 

"Pretty," she said, but she wasn't looking at the altar, or the window, she was looking at Jazz standing underneath the stained glass. Luckily, she must not have heard her as she took a step closer to the altar just then and her heavy boots echoed. 

"Maybe next time we can do something more normal, like go to the movies."

"Next time?"

Jazz smiled. "Yeah, I mean we can hang out again, right? I don't really know anyone else."

Was it her imagination or was this girl leaning forward? Panic. Panic. Panic. "Sure," she mumbled. "But you know I'm not right?"

"Not what?"

"A lesbian," said Fiona, so fast and so loud that the word echoed around them.

"Oh, that's too bad."

This was surely death. This was surely what death felt like. "Why?"

Then Jazz smiled, a dazzling, luminous smile. "Because I am."

And that would have been it. The single most loaded moment of her life. She had met a real-life lesbian! An actual lesbian. A pretty lesbian. It should have been magical and sacred and forever treasured but it was rather overshadowed by what came after:

"Lucky, lucky me then," said a mocking voice from above them.

And in the next instance, two female figures in matching leather outfits landed perfectly between them on the floor of Saint Sebastian's. Fiona stared at their malformed faces and let out a shriek. Having for the first time met a real lesbian was suddenly eclipsed by having for the first time encountered two very real, very thirsty, vampires. 


	2. Friends and Forget-me-nots

Fiona's scream rung through the air for an instant, and then Jazzy's instincts kicked in. She dashed around one of the vampires, cutting between her and Fiona. They had their backs to the altar now, without an easy way to escape, but at least this was a better way to defend her. "And who are you?" she said coolly, looking from one figure to the other.

"Me?" The vampire furthest from her put a coquettish hand on her shoulder. She was blonde and slim, her skin grey-tinged, her yellow eyes looking at Jazzy's neck. "Your wet dream girl."

Jazzy pretended to throw up in her mouth. "Please, I'm not into Shar-Pei."

The yellow eyes narrowed. "Aw, look Angel our breakfast has spunk, how flavourful!"

"What the hell is happening," whispered Fiona, a trembling hand going to Jazz's shoulder. "What are those _things_?"

The blonde vampire smiled again taking a step closer to them. The candles at the altar brought her features into further definition and Jazzy could feel Fiona shivering next to her. "I think these little mortals think we're ugly-" her eyes were on the other vampire, the one she called Angel. She was muscular and tall, with short black hair, and dark eyes. There was something wolfish in her face. Her jaw was set. Her features stern. There was an intensity to her as well, and especially to the way she was looking at Jazz. "I'll have you know," she lay a hand on Angel's shoulder. "We were both famed beauties when we were mortals," she leaned forward on the tips of her feet and kissed Angel's jaw. "Weren't we darling?"

Angel gave a nod but didn’t take her eyes off Jazzy. 

There were 3 exits to the church. The main one, and one at each ends of the wing, and to get to any of them they had to go through both of them. Jazz might have been able to do it, but not while keeping Fiona safe. The blonde vampire took another step towards them:

"We've heard rumours about you of course," she gave a derisive laugh. "Heard people have been calling you _the Slayer_."

"Darla," it was Angel who spoke, and the tone was cautious, a warning. For some reason it gave Jazz an extra boost of courage. Whoever this Angel person was she was scared of her. As she should be. 

"But please," continued Darla. "You?" She looked at her and laughed. "I always did think the Council was composed of idiots, but this is just a little too much." She laughed again, her eyes surveying Jazz very closely, drinking in her appearance, from the curly hair, to the black boots. 

"Darla," the tone was almost pleading. 

"You don't think I'm slayer material?"

"Yes," she gave a shake of the head. "I don't even think you're good enough to eat. I think I'll just let you bleed out while I feast on your little friend." Her eyes move to Fiona who was shivering next to her. 

Jazzy was thinking fast. Making calculations about the space and how much she would be able to move around in it to give Fiona the chance to get away. The problem was that the more Darla talked the closer Fiona was clutching to her. “You’re gonna have trouble with that,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. 

“Am I?” Darla bared all her teeth and next to Fiona let out a terrified gasp. “We’ll see about that, _slayer_ ,” she put so much mockery into the word, letting it roll with sarcasm and it was this that most pissed her off. The next moment Darla lunged towards her and thinking fast Jazzy grabbed one of the large metal incense holders behind her, using the metal rod like a sword and bashing Darla hard on the collarbone. 

She was fast though, and quickly ducked beneath her, her hands reaching out as if to grab her but Jazzy instead kicked her away and then used the pause to swing the metal rod through the air again. This time it would have hit her straight in the head, if Angel hadn’t interfered. She skidded towards her from the darkness of the Church, holding the rod at the other end, till they were in a show of strength against each other. Jazzy pushed back as hard as she could, feeling the strain through out her body as next to her Fiona was having what a sounded a lot like a panic attack. 

It was impossible to shake of Angel, so instead pushed the rod closer to her hitting her on the forehead and then letting go, which caused Angel to tumble off backwards. In the background she could feel both of them getting up and presumably coming towards her. There was only a second or two to decide, to act, to save not only herself, but poor Fiona. Without giving it much thought Jazzy grabbed every single one of the fancy metal ornaments on the altar behind her hurling them at both of them. One of the gold goblets hit Darla in the face and knocked her against a pillar. 

It wasn’t the best she could do, but it was probably the best she could do under the circumstances. A second later she grabbed hold of Fiona’s hand and began running with her towards the left wing, making sure to push her ahead of herself in case there was another attack. It was a smart idea as just as they were going through the door someone caught up with her. It was Darla and she looked furious, her face red where the heavy goblet had hit her, her yellow eyes narrowed like a panther’s. 

“Slayer!” she growled as she grabbed hold of Jazzy by her curls. 

Instantly she let go of Fiona’s hands. “Run,” she commanded her, but the girl simply stopped, petrified between the graves, big blue eyes looking back at her. 

Jazzy groaned as Darla swung her back around, her fingers tangled in her hair, her thick nails digging into her scalp. “Fast kid aren’t you,” she says as one of her hands moves down to her neck, pressing hard against her windpipe. 

Fiona gave a scream just as Jazzy elbowed Darla as hard as she could in the ribs, spinning to get more momentum. She dropped her and staggered backwards with another growl. This time however Jazzy was not letting her go that easily. She grabbed her by the forearm before she could come fully to herself, lifted her up and then threw her as hard as she could against one of the stained-glass windows. There was an initial crash around them, and then the sound of thousands of tiny glass pieces tinkered to the ground like bells. 

She was about to turn around and run back to Fiona when she saw Angel in the doorway. She was standing there, her dark eyes staring at her but then instead of coming towards her she retreated back into the church, presumably to check on her girlfriend. 

Jazz spun around and grabbed hold Fiona’s hand again. They ran through the graveyard, her heart beating out of her chest, her hands clammy and sweaty. She was so careless tonight. And now they had to find a way to get home safe without-

Just as they hit the street a car pulled up, it’s yellow lights almost blinding in the dusk. She pulled Fiona back because she had almost run into it and then stared at the familiar face in the driver’s seat. 

“Giles?” she said, only half believing it.

“Get in!” he answered, his eyes fixed on the church behind them. She moved past Fiona and opened the door, letting her go in first before joining. 

"Giles, what are you doing here?" said Jazzy as the car sped quickly down the narrow streets, it's light blasting yellow through the graveyard. 

"Saving your neck apparently."

Jazz grumbled and looked over her shoulder at the Church vanishing in the distance. Then her eyes sought Fiona. She was sitting still and slumped over against the side of the car, blue eyes glassy. 

"Are you okay?"

She answered with a feeble noise. 

"I'm not gonna say I told you so, but I told you so."

Jazz sighed. Here came the reprimands. 

"You're not taking this seriously. You could have gotten killed. You could have gotten Fiona killed. No crucifix. No stake. Wondering around after a dark, next to a graveyard. What were you thinking?"

She muttered something incoherently and crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, if you haven't noticed even without a stake and a crucifix, I defended us just fine. We're alive, aren't we?"

"Oh, that's a triumph is it? Here I was thinking you two being alive was simply a given," he sighed and took a sharp left making Jazz crash hard against Fiona. 

"Oi, watch it!"

"I'm sorry, am _I_ being careless?"

"Jeez, and I thought my mom was the queen of the passive aggressive." She looked back at Fiona. Her posture had not changed at all. She still looked petrified. 

"Giles where are we going?"

"Library."

"Please tell me that's code for my house?"

"It has protection, old ones. And books. We need to talk about things. You can't worm your way out of your duties. You were chosen for this Jazzy."

"Okay, what the hell is happening?" said Fiona quietly looking from one to the other. Neither of them could think of a coherent answer. Jazzy opened her mouth to try to explain it away but couldn't think of a lie convincing enough. "Seriously, what are you guys talking about?"

"We'll-" Giles stopped himself and took a calculating glance back at them. "We can explain it to you when we get to the Library, but Fiona it would be best not to. The best thing for all of us would be if you cast it out of your mind. Forget this ever happened."

"As if that we're possible."

Ten minutes later they were in the dark library. Jazzy was stretched out across two chairs, scrolling absentmindedly on her phone to calm down while Giles made them hot chocolate and Fiona paced anxiously around her. 

When he finished, he plopped down three cups with marshmallows and beckoned for Fiona to take a seat. "Officially, I'm not supposed to tell you any of this... but given the circumstances... and the fact that you want to know…I feel that perhaps it is best if you are informed." He sighed and pushed up his glasses. "A, long time ago in Africa..."

"Giles! We don't have all night, cut to the chase," interrupted Jazzy. 

"There are vampires."

"And demons," she interjected.

"And Jazzy here has a very special role. She is the slayer, a unique entity. There is only one in the world and her job is to-"

"To kill all the monsters," said Jazzy, it had not escaped her noticed that he had called her an _entity_. 

"To protect us," he countered. 

Fiona took a deep breath and picked up her mug. She held it between her hands, absorbing its warmth along with all the information coming her way. "And those things-"

"Yep, those were Vampires."

She took a drink. "Is that why so many bad things happen here?" her voice sounded small. 

"It is. You see about 60 years ago a Hellmouth was opened underneath this town."

“Cause nothing says quaint small town living like a hellmouth," muttered Jazz. 

"Is everything a joke with you?" said Giles his eyes sharp. "This is really most serious. You cannot continue treating it like a game. Tonight, has been an absolute disaster. You know the Council is already against you. You know that the situation is delicate. Why must you exasperate everything by behaving like a child?" Under his gaze Jazz seemed to sink in her seat and his tone softened: "What happened tonight? Did they know who you were?"

"Yeah."

"And who were they?"

"Psycho girlfriends party of two."

"Did you catch any names?"

"The flirty one was Darla. Tall, dark and grumpy was Angel." Giles visibly winced. "Do you know them?"

"I know of them... they work for-" he paused. "For an old vampire. A very old vampire. The one who opened the Hellmouth. Her real name has been lost for centuries; we refer to her only as the Mistress."

Unable to help herself Jazz broke out in a grin. "Kinky."

"No. Dangerous. The Mistress-"

She laughed. "Oh, I'm quacking in my platforms."

"Jazzy," he said employing all his patience not to spiral into another lecture. "She is really very dangerous. She has been trying to regain her strength, and now that she knows the Slayer is here..."

"How would she?" said Fiona quietly causing both of them looked at her she elaborated. "Regain her strength I mean."

"An ancient ceremony known as the Harvest. She will choose someone to be her vessel, a fellow vampire. And from then on every person that the Vessel consumes will grant her more and more power."

Jazzy leaned forward. "And this vessel could be someone like Darla or Angel?"

"Perhaps, or someone more expendable."

"So you don't think they are expendable?"

"No. They've been with her a long time, centuries, and they have-" he paused again. "A reputation."

Jazzy and Fiona exchanged looks.

"How many vampires are there in town?" said Fiona. 

"No way of knowing really, more than in any other town I would be willing to bet."

"And the vessel could be any of them?"

"In theory," began Giles and it looked like he was about to make references to one text or other, but suddenly he stopped himself and stared at Fiona as if barely realizing she was there.

"What?"

"Fiona, I don't mean to be impolite, but there is really no reason for you to involve yourself with this. It's very dangerous."

"And boring," interjected Jazzy.

Fiona gave the smallest of shrugs. "Living in this town is dangerous and boring. From what I can tell the better informed I am the better chance I have of surviving."

They both watched with amusement as Giles tried to create a counter argument but failed to find a flaw in her reasoning. "Right... to get back to the matter at hand, no, we have no way of knowing which of the many vampires in town is the vessel. It could be one of the ones who attacked you tonight, it could be any other."

Jazz groaned. "Let me guess, finding out is my job?"

"Your _responsibility_."

She leaned back in her chair. "Does this town have any bars, clubs, a place for young inebriated little humans?"

"I don't believe so," said Giles.

"The Bronze," answered Fiona. "That's where everyone goes."

Giles looked seriously nonplussed. "Why have I never heard of it then?"

She smiled at him. "Cause you're a middle-aged librarian not a teenager looking a good time."

Jazz laughed. "Where is it?"

"I can take you," said Fiona. They were looking at each other, and Fiona felt a kind of warmth go through her body. None of the things that had happened today had many any sense at all. And yet they all fit in together, and she wasn't scared, she was exited. Finally, something was happening to her. 

"Under no circumstances."

"Look now that I know what's happening, I can't just sit by and-"

"Giles is right-" said Jazzy. "It's dangerous. It'll be easier if I'm alone."

Fiona deflated. She had wanted to go with her again. To be alone with her. Her face flushed and for the first time she thought back to Jazz's declaration in the church. "It's dangerous for you too."

"She's the slayer. She's stronger than she looks."

"Still – I-"

"Fiona, if you do really want to be of help there are other things you can do."

"Like?"

He got up and surprising no one came back with a large book. "I've been trying to find something for months and I haven't had any success. It's a place in this town, somewhere underground-" he opened the book up to a map that looked like it had been created at least a hundred years before.

Her eyes traced over the outdated landmarks. "Have you checked online?"

"No, I'm not very..."

She sighed. "Okay. I guess I can help you with that." She turned to Jazz. "Are you gonna be okay alone?"

Jazzy had already gotten to her feet and was rummaging in Giles's drawer for a stake. "You don't have to worry about me," she said without a hint of sarcasm. 

-

The Bronze was tucked away behind an abandoned factory. The street in front was dark, ominously so, and yet it was easy for Jazz to find signs of nightlife. She heard the wisps of Rock music, and laugher, and there was a long trail of cigarette buds leading up to the entrance. It was also easy to gain admittance. She was tall and her make up helped her look older than her sixteen years, not that the pimpled bouncer checked anyone's ID's.

Inside it was a massive crowded room, with an industrial feel and a live band. Half the crowd looked like college kids, the other half looked like they were definitely her age, or perhaps even younger. The place smelled of alcohol and hormones. It was a near perfect feeding ground, she thought as she moved easily through the ground, taking careful note of those around her. 

She wished she had worn more practical shoes. Her heels were killing her as she walked up the stairs to the second floor. This gave her an aerial view of the space below, which would be helpful for picking up any nefarious activity. She searched through the faces for Darla and Angel, but neither of them where in that place, and certainly not as vampires. After a moment her gaze was caught by someone quite different: a very beautiful, tall brunette, in a tight blue dress. Cordelia. She remembered her from lunch. 

Jazzy leaned against the railings, looking at her more closely. She was almost a perfect archetype: popular, rich, fashionable, good looking, and desperate of course to maintain her position in all these things. Jazzy had known girls like that all her life, and once upon a time she had even been desperate to be like them. But now it all seemed vapid, shallow, and-

Her eyes focused on the boy Cordelia was dancing with. Boy was probably not the right word. He looked like he could be 25. A muscular guy in a leather jacket and she squinted – glared jeans. There were cuffed leather bracelets at his wrist, and as she looked more closely at his hair, she saw frosted tips. Jazz smiled to herself. They always gave themselves away. She pushed past the crowd down the stairwell, minding her steps in her stupid boots. 

She was almost to the landing when a frat guy pulled her by the elbow. "You’re looking good," he said giving her an approving nod. 

"Wish I could say the same buddy," said Jazzy slipping out of his grip and jumping down the last four steps to the dance floor.

She looked passed the mass of bodies to where Cordelia and Mr. Not-Subtle had been dancing but they weren't there anymore. She squeezed through gaps, stepping on people when they move fast enough out of her way. She was in the middle of the room when she spotted them. They were going through a side entrance, presumably to the alley on the other side. She shoved and pushed her way faster, making a path for herself as people complained. 

She pushed the door open quietly, the music leaking behind her into the night. There were no streetlights, but she could hear the whispers of a conversation: "I don't know..." there was hesitation in Cordelia's voice. "I wanna stay here and dance."

Jazzy's eyes were adjusting to the lack of light. She could see them both more clearly. The vampire, whoever he was, had his back to her. "There are other places to dance," one of his hands was on Cordelia's waist. "There are other place-"

"No, I'm not going anywhere else," she took a step in the direction of the door, and then in an instant he had grabbed her. There was a low feral growl, and Jazzy sprang into action. 

More than any of the other changes that had come with it being the Slayer for her had meant trusting her instincts. Her ability to detect the supernatural, the mal intended. And it had also meant trusting her body. She did not have to think about it, something ancient and powerful in her that was her guiding force. Before Cordelia could let out a scream, she was between them, swerving as he took a hit at her and kicking him squarely in the stomach sending him back four feet against the opposite wall. 

His face had transformed. The handsome, vacant human features were gone. Replaced by wrinkles, by scars, by folds of skin that almost resembled something reptilian, and wrathful orange eyes were glowering at her. He growled and lunged forward clumsily, his hand intending to go around her neck, but in the absolute last second Jazzy pulled her stake out of her skirt, and when he reached her at full force, he impaled himself against it. 

He had time to scream, his face an agony, and then he shuttered and became dust. She watched the wind blow it around, her heart beating fast. This had been an easy one, especially compared to her earlier encountered. She looked at Cordelia, who was leaning against the wall, dark eyes wide, her mouth slight open. "What the hell?"

She sighed. "You have crap taste."

"You killed him," she said, looking at where his body had been. "There wasn't any blood... and what was with his... face?"

"He was a vampire. Like I said you have crap taste."

For a span of a few second Cordelia looked small and scared, like the kid she was and then all of that vanished behind a mask. She met Jazzy's gaze and her eyes narrowed. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"A joke... "

"A trick."

"You think I would go through the trouble to orchestrate this?"

"I think-" said Cordelia in a menacing voice. "That you want a lot of the things I have."

Jazzy gulped. Had she heard something?

"I don't know what happened here tonight, but I know it had something to do with _you_. Stay away from me." Fearlessly she pushed passed her back to the door of the bronze. 

"I love gratitude," she muttered to herself. 

And what was she supposed to do now? Go back inside and do it all again? Hope that there were more vampires in there? She slumped against the wall and pulled out her cellphone and then realized she hadn't gotten Fiona's number. She groaned and texted Giles back asking for it. Maybe they were still together? He would probably say her priorities were mixed up but-

Something changed. Someone was watching her. She slipped her phone into her pocket and pulled out her stake again. No, nothing had changed, someone had been watching her a long time, the whole time. She knew that now with a certainty that went clear beyond logic. "Here to avenge your ugly friend?" she called into the night, when nothing happened, she grumbled. "I'm not gonna wait here all night. I'm a lone female. My neck is delicious," she said shifting her hair to the side so the while skin was more visible. "Come on, come on get me, I'm cute and scared."

"I didn't come to get you-" a figure had come out of the shadows, and she recognized the voice at once. 

"Angel."

"I came to help you."

"To help me what? Into an early grave?"

"No," she took another step closer to her. Her vampire appearance was gone and for the first time Jazzy got to see how pretty she really was. She had short hair, and a hard jaw, with dark eyes. Her skin was pale and perfect, her body tall and muscular. "You're looking for someone."

She frowned. "Yeah?"

"The vessel is a vampire named Luke. He has a mark on his forehead. A red mark. He was here tonight, but you missed him."

Jazzy actually found herself lowering her stake. "Why are you telling me that?"

"I told you, I want to help."

"Help? You're a vampire. I'm the slayer."

"Is that supposed to mean we're enemies," she took another step towards her. Her voice was smooth, silky soft. "Because I don't think so."

"Of course it does."

"I will be here, if you ever need help-" the way she was looking at her was unnerving. 

"If you come to me again, I'll kill you."

"And I'll accept that-"

Jazzy had no idea what to answer to this. She looked so earnest, so pained. "Did your girlfriend put you up to this?"

"She does not control me. Not anymore."

"Why? You get tired of her bossy ass?"

A small smile formed on her lips. "No, I guess you can say I've changed, for a long time now I've only been playing the part."

"Oh, of course, just pretending, I understand."

"No, I don't think you do Jazzy," her hand went to the pocket of her jacket, and she pulled a green stem with tiny blue flowers. "You don't understand because you don't know. But I promise, you can trust me, I would never ever lead you astray," her hand stretched out handing the flowers over to her and automatically Jazzy grabbed them. For a moment their fingers touched and then an instant later Angel had vanished, and she was left standing there like an idiot holding vampire flowers. 

"Fuck me," she muttered dropping them. "That was some fucking Dracula shit," she stomped on them, hating herself. What the hell had that been? What kind of slayer was she if she let herself be carried away by the first fucking butch vampire she met? She sighed. It was late, nearly midnight, on her first day of school and her mother was going to kill her. 

She began walking home, her feet aching. Tomorrow she was wearing sneakers, no matter how much they ruined her outfit. She had only walked a couple of blocks when her phone vibrated. It was an unknown number, but she picked it up anyway, cause after the day she had no telemarketer was gonna scare her:

"Did you make it home okay?" said Fiona's voice on the other side. 

Jazz smiled. "Not yet. I'm on my way though. Did you?"

"Yes. Find anything on the vessel?"

"I have a lead of sorts," she said, involuntarily picturing Angel. "What about you and the underground stuff?"

Fiona groaned and then spiralled off into a very amusing story about Giles's technophobia. It made her smile.

It felt like today had been the longest day of her life. It seemed to change everything. The normality that she had originally sought had been shattered. And Giles was right. This was her responsibility, her duty, and rising up to it felt right somehow. Plus, good things had happened. Her eyeliner still looked bomb, and she had managed to leave a club without either blood or alcohol on her outfit, which was its own kind of triumph.

Plus, there was Fiona. As she made her way home to the soothing sounds of her voice, she thanked the universe and all the fates that she didn't quite believe in, because it was lovely really, having a friend. 

**Author's Note:**

> I would love feedback, good or bad. I have never written like anything with real plot before, so it's pretty new for me. I am also gonna try to post every week, but due dates are not my strong suit, as should be obvious by the fact I'm still trying to complete my bingo card from October lol.


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